


What If I Can't Forget You?

by kageyums



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Demon Oikawa Tooru, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Strip Club Shenanigans, iwa-chan doesn't give a shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 04:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11867187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kageyums/pseuds/kageyums
Summary: “The taste of you and meWill never leave my lips again.”Iwaizumi just wanted a quiet summer. He was a good kid- he helped out his dad with his grocery store, helped walk his elderly neighbor's dogs, and donated his old clothes to the Salvation Army. He thought he would get what he deserved- lazy summer afternoons and ice cream breaks between his shifts. Instead, he gets curses, an interesting new hair color, and a boy he will never forget.





	1. Tooi Hibi

Iwaizumi just wanted to go home. He wanted to go home and take a shower, and then maybe watch some TV, before cooking himself dinner and heading to sleep. He could almost see the dust particles floating in the air. It was almost midnight on a quiet Friday night, and the entire town was asleep. He glanced one more time at the clock, which seemed to tick backwards. 

He blinked. The clock was literally ticking backwards. He rubbed his eyes, and double checked, just to make sure. Yup. It was still going in reverse.

“Damn it.” He cursed, reaching for the step stool. He placed it underneath the faulty clock, reaching upwards and unhooking it from where it was mounted on the wall. He was legitimately confused- he had never seen a digital clock malfunction like this before. Unsure of what to do, he banged it a couple times against the counter. It beeped once before shutting off entirely.

Iwaizumi groaned internally, tossing the clock over his shoulder before settling back down in his seat. The clock clanged against the tile floors of the shop before sliding to a stop a few feet away. He was sure that he only had fifteen minutes left before his shift was over and he could close the store, but then again, the clock was misbehaving. He begrudgingly wrestled his ancient phone from his uniform pocket and checked the time. He sighed in relief- it was only a minute till closing.

Then he heard the crashing noises.

It was just his luck. A minute before closing and the only customer in the entire shop had knocked over one of the displays. Iwaizumi had told his dad that he’d help out even without being asked, but he hadn’t known that the air conditioning unit in the shop was broken and that his dad had literally left him stranded in Miyagi while he and his mother went on vacation. The task of managing the store was suddenly a lot greater, seeing as it was the only grocery store in town and frequented quite often. The first thing Iwaizumi had done was get the air conditioner fixed. The repairman would be here tomorrow, which was about a million days too late.

Iwaizumi put on his best “I’m dealing with annoying customers but I’m being friendly because this is my goddamn job” face and headed to where the crashing noise had come from. He rounded the corner of an aisle and was faced with the worst disaster he had seen since he had begun working here nearly three weeks ago. Out of all the displays the customer could have knocked over, they decided to knock over the ‘We Love Italy!’ display, meaning tomato sauce everywhere. 

A body lay in the middle of the heap, fine, but seemingly unwilling to move. 

“Excuse me, sir, if you could move out of the mess, I’ll clean it up.” Iwaizumi bit back a grumble, already reaching for his mop. 

The body twitched slightly, then groaned. “Owwwww.” Then sat up slowly. The man, now that Iwaizumi looked closer, was covered in head to toe with tomato sauce, surrounded by broken glass bottles and several DIY pizza making kits. “God, why was that display in my way?” The man grumbled, moving to stand up. He spotted the now-crooked display sign, which Iwaizumi had spent a good hour making. The poster board was now missing a corner, and one letter had fallen off. “God, I told Makki I wanted to go to Italy, that fucking bastard, I’ll get him for this,” the man mumbled to himself, and only then did he notice Iwaizumi.

“Oh!” The bastard had the nerve to grin, a cheeky smirk that made Iwaizumi’s blood boil. “Sorry for the mess! But you know, it’s not really a loss to your shop, is it? After all, there are no other customers in here.”

Iwaizumi was at a loss for words. This idiot just ran into the display he spent hours on and then had the nerve to insult his dad’s store? Moreover, the idiot was now babbling, asking Iwaizumi whether his hair still looked good- ‘Don’t answer that, I always look  good-’. Now that Iwaizumi looked closer, he could see that the man was actually wearing a very nice suit- or what was a very nice suit. Now it was dripping Prego sauce. 

“Sir, that may be because the store is closing in thirty seconds. Please move out of the mess and I’ll clean-“

“I guess it’d be too much to ask for you to pay for my dry cleaning bill? Unless you’re offering?” The asshole just extracted himself from the mess on the floor before sauntering over to Iwaizumi, looking like a colossal idiot. Iwaizumi elected to ignore him, mopping up the tomato sauce and rinsing off the mop every so often. The asshole just kept talking, leaning on a stack of ramen noodles, but Iwaizumi drowned him out, for fear of accidentally committing homicide. Once all the sauce was mopped up, he brushed all the glass out of the way, and picked up the soggy packages of pasta on the floor. He wanted to go home. He heard out of the corner of his ear the words “ass” and “really tight pants” and assumed the man was talking about himself again, so he continued to drown him out. He retrieved a drooping ‘y’ from the floor and dumped it in the trash, straightening the sign out before turning back around to leave. He was done for today. 

“So, what do you say? How about that date?” The man finished. Iwaizumi blinked.

“Huh?” What was he still doing here?

“I said, you’re cuter than you look!” He beamed. “Give me your number!” He peered at Iwaizumi’s name tag. “Iwa-chan~”

What the fuck. Iwaizumi suddenly felt pissed- it was the combination of the heat, the accident, and this idiot’s cocky attitude. Fuck customer service. “Hell no,” he spat, stalking past the stuck up bastard and heading for the register. “Besides, we’re closed. Time for you to leave.” 

The man’s face twitched, before he erupted into laughter. Iwaizumi just watched, completely baffled, as the man laughed as if this was the best joke in his life. His laughs finally trailed off into giggles, and his face was flushed pink. Iwaizumi noticed in the back of his mind that his face and hair was now clear of tomato sauce- revealing wet, chocolate brown hair, pink lips, and perfectly shaped eyebrows. “Iwa-chan, you’re surprisingly funny!”

Iwaizumi was too astounded to laugh at this man’s idiocy. “Um, I’m not joking.” What kind of world did this guy come from? Was he an alien? Was this how aliens got dates? Iwaizumi always thought they just abducted people in UFOs and probed them. 

The man blinked. “Haha?”

Iwaizumi just stared.

He could tell that the man was, objectively, pretty good looking. Perfectly styled curly brown hair, large brown eyes framed by long eyelashes, pretty pink lips. He was tall- taller than Iwaizumi, if only by a few centimeters. He had a long, thin neck, with broad shoulders and a slender waist. He looked like he had stepped out of a magazine- if not for the ten jars worth of sauce on his body. So what if he had a pretty face? Iwaizumi didn’t want to go out with an asshole. Especially one covered in tomato sauce.

At Iwaizumi’s lack of a response, the man’s face changed rapidly. Gone was the easy smile and the bright eyes, replaced by first an angry frown but quickly morphing to something even scarier. With cold, calculating eyes, the man suddenly leaned forward into Iwaizumi’s space, before he grabbed Iwaizumi’s wrist and pressed a hot finger against his pulse. Iwaizumi scuttled out of the man’s way by instinct- some part of him yelled at him to get away. He tore his arm away from the man and backed up against the counter, trying his best not to look surprised. Iwaizumi had to have at least twenty pounds on him- after all, he was the most frequent visitor of the local gym- yet there was something about the other’s presence that made him strangely intimidating, despite the relatively thin limbs and delicate face. 

The only way out the store was past Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi backed up as far as he could as the man brushed past him, giving him one last look. Iwaizumi’s blood ran cold for reasons he couldn’t explain.

“My name is Oikawa. You better not forget me, Iwa-chan~” Oikawa smiled, and left, the store door breezing shut behind him. The cheerful noise of the tinkling bells signaling his exit followed, a stark contrast to the bizarre encounter and Oikawa’s dark expression. Iwaizumi looked at his wrist. A drop of tomato sauce was smudged, looking a lot like blood. 

What the hell was that?

Iwaizumi wiped away the sauce, and beneath it was a strange black mark. It was too small to make out the pattern, but undeniably there. He rubbed at it as hard as he could, to no avail; it persisted against his skin. Iwaizumi was, like he was most of the time, slightly bewildered but too tired to worry about it. 

Whatever. It was finally time to go home. Iwaizumi dealt with more than a few crazy people on a daily basis.


	2. Jinsei no Merry Go Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bright pink, frisky old ladies, concussions, and sunglasses indoors. Oh my!

Something very, very strange had happened to Iwaizumi. He stared dumbfounded at himself in the bathroom mirror, scrubbing at the condensation multiple times before he slowly began to realize that he wasn’t dreaming, nor were his eyes fooling him. 

His hair had actually turned a ridiculous shade of bright pink.

It had taken him a while to notice, actually. He had trudged bleary-eyed to the bathroom, hopping straight into the shower and brushing his teeth. He only woke up halfway through, and it wasn’t until now that he had peered into the mirror. 

He tried to remember if he shampooed properly. He probably most certainly had.

Not only was it pink, it was bright pink. The kind of pink you only got from multiple bleachings and lots and lots of hair dye. In fact, it would make most emo scene girls jealous- it took a lot to lift the black out of Asian hair. Iwaizumi gaped at himself like a fish out of the water- his mouth wide open and flopping about uselessly. Iwaizumi liked to blend into the background. He had never really stood out- never was the most popular kid, nor the least. He had friends, but not too many. He was distinctly average in all aspects of life, except for maybe volleyball. The sport he had played in both high school and college he excelled at, and his work ethic was pretty good. After all, he was a med student and it was years of hard work that had gotten him into one of the best programs in Japan. But regardless, he still didn’t like being the center of attention and was always careful not to be too flashy or stand out too much.

It was very, very hard not to stand out with bright pink hair.

Especially in the Miyagi prefecture where most students and adults had brown or black hair; his hair was going to turn heads in the streets.

Great. His summer had just gone from _bad_ to _worse_.

He trudged out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his hips, having given up on trying to make his hair revert back to black through sheer force of will. The store opened in an hour- at eight in the morning. He had some time to get dressed and get ready for opening. 

In an effort to hide the pink hair, he quickly towel-dried it and shoved a baseball cap on top, pulling on a black shirt and jeans. It was what he wore most of the time, regardless of how Yahaba called him boring.

It wasn’t a long walk to the store, and Iwaizumi paced it in order to avoid the curious glances from his neighbors. The elderly old woman next door was on a walk with one of her many golden retrievers, Maggie Jr., and the temptation had been too much; Iwaizumi had to stop to pet the dog, allowing Maggie Sr to engage him in conversation.

“Good morning, dear,” she said, beaming at him as Maggie Jr slobbered all over his hand. “Lovely new look!”

“Ah, the look…..thank you.” Iwaizumi winced, cursing the traitorous strands of hair that peeked out from below the cap. 

“Dearie, I remember when I was your age..Young…wild…A lot friskier than I am now!” She laughed, and Iwaizumi had to try very hard not to gag. Maggie Sr was nearly eighty three and was stooped over so badly she barely came up to his chest. “I used to have hair every color under the rainbow.” She sighed reminiscently, before waving him on his way. “I’ll stop by the store later, sweets.” Iwaizumi made his escape, grateful for the exit. He bid her goodbye and practically sprinted to work.

He was forty minutes early, and set to work tidying up the store while it was empty. It wasn’t a very big store- just around the size of his living room. The floors were tiled white while the walls were painted a faded yellow. Tall shelves holding various things lined the walls, while in the center were his displays, like his “Welcome to Italy!” pasta display and summer-themed ice cream machine. The kids from around the neighborhood liked to stop by to grab ice cream every once in awhile, provided their parents had given them their allowance. Iwaizumi himself used to be in love with the soft serve ice cream- once, while his dad had been busy, he had snuck four cones of ice cream only to have a rough time in the toilet later. Turns out that much sugar isn’t good for a mildly lactose intolerant twelve year old. He was just about done when someone knocked lightly on the glass window front of the store. He sneaked a glance at his laptop, which he had set up on the counter, playing some lo-fi hip hop. The numbers blinked at him- it was eight in the morning, time for him to open up shop. He could see the old man from across the street waving at him from outside, and he hurried to flip the sign to “Open” and pull the door open. 

“Good morning, Kobayashi-san.” He greeted, and the old man patted him on the shoulder as he entered.

“It’s too hot for me, but young men like you should be outside enjoying their youth.” He grinned, before heading straight to the small liquor section near the back and picking up several cans of Asahi beer. Iwaizumi smiled. Kobayashi-san may be nearing seventy but he and his friends still drank together every once in awhile, which Iwaizumi could not imagine was easy on their livers. Iwaizumi scanned all the cans for him. 

“Your total is 1354.17 yen.” Kobayashi-san handed him two 1,000-yen bills, before taking the bag and winking. “Keep the change.” He waved away all of Iwaizumi’s protests before exiting, giving him one last final wave before the store was quiet again.

Iwaizumi sighed. All the elders in the neighborhood always insisted on him keeping the change. Soon they would run out of retirement money and Iwaizumi would feel bad. 

The next few hours were spent in relative peace and quiet- he was only interrupted twice. The first time was by a gaggle of kids with sweaty hair and fistfuls of change, demanding ice pops. The next was a welcome interruption- a guy came to fix the air conditioning, and the store was finally blissfully cold. The rest of the day was suddenly looking a lot better, and Iwaizumi relished the leisure. 

It didn’t last. 

Iwaizumi was just slipping out from the back room, where he had retreated to give himself a little break and grab a few bites of a sandwich for lunch. It was well past one, and his stomach had alerted him to the time by grumbling loudly. Iwaizumi wasn’t the biggest fan of cooking, but making a sandwich was barely difficult. 

He had stopped when he heard the tinkling of the doors, signaling the entrance of a customer. “One second!” He called, voice slightly muffled through a mouthful of bread and pastrami. He set the remainder of the sandwich down on a slightly dusty desk and left the break room.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw the body. 

Iwaizumi immediately rushed forward, rolling the body forward. The familiar, chin-length black hair and old Aoba-Josai volleyball club t-shirt only served to increase his alarm. Sure enough, when the body rolled over like a ragdoll, Iwaizumi was greeted with the sight of a very bloody, very hurt Kunimi.

“Kunimi!” Iwaizumi refrained from shaking his body, seeing as if the poor kid had a concussion, which was very likely, Iwaizumi wouldn’t be doing him any favors. Instead, he resorted to poking at a blood-less spot on Kunimi’s cheek, hoping the kid wasn’t dead.

“W-Wah?!” Kunimi’s eyes shot open and Iwaizumi would forever deny the sound that came out of his mouth. It was neither manly nor cool, and thankfully Kunimi didn’t comment on his moment of weakness.

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” He grumbled, helping Kunimi sit up as the poor kid groaned, bringing bloody hands up to cradle his head.

“Muh head hurts,” he moaned, and Iwaizumi hurried to grab a sack of frozen peas. He held it out for Kunimi, who held it against his entire face, unflinching against the cold. 

“What the hell happened?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Got beat up. It wasn’t fun,” Kunimi said. The peas seemed to be helping, as Kunimi sat up straighter and began to wipe the blood on his hands onto his shirt.

“Why so much blood?” Iwaizumi couldn’t help but grimace at the sight of his white tiles getting stained with red. 

“Some guy had a knife. It was four versus one. I managed to get my hands on the knife, though.” Kunimi’s tone of voice didn’t change, and even though Iwaizumi had known the guy for nearly eight years, he was still taken aback by how much lied beneath the cool, collected exterior. Whoever thought Kunimi had no personality was severely mistaken- the guy got into fights  _ often  _ for some damn reason. It was like he attracted bad guys. 

“Why’d they jump you?” Iwaizumi remembered the handkerchief in his bag and grabbed it, handing it to Kunimi, before squatting back down beside him.

“I rejected one of the friends. He smelled bad. Tried to roofie my drink so I kneed him in the balls and ran.” He shrugged. “They found me a few days later.”   
Iwaizumi sighed. Right. Kunimi was constantly rejecting creepy guys and paying for it. The world was fucked up. “Any dead bodies?”   
Kunimi shook his head. “Nah. Two of the guys are gonna be paying the hospital a visit, though.” Iwaizumi wanted to suggest to Kunimi that maybe he should go get checked out, too, but he knew Kunimi couldn’t be bothered. 

“You probably have a concussion,” Iwaizumi told him. “Take it easy.”   
Kunimi sighed. “I have work tonight, though.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.   
“You’re not going to work in that state.” Kunimi worked at a male strip club, which was probably where he kept getting hit on by creepy guys. Was it that hard for them to understand that lack of clothes didn’t equal consent? “You’ll fall right off the pole and get a concussion on top of a concussion.”   
“I’ll ask to be put in the bar instead,” Kunimi mumbled, running the handkerchief over his face. 

“You’re supposed to avoid bright lights and loud noises, you dumbass,” Iwaizumi sighed, taking the handkerchief from him after he held it out. It was significantly redder than before. Kunimi looked a lot better now, no longer covered in someone else’s blood. He was still pretty battered, though. 

“I’ll wear sunglasses and earplugs,” Kunimi slowly got up, and Iwaizumi shot up to help him hobble towards the door.

“You’re an idiot,” Iwaizumi told him. “I’m coming around tonight to keep watch.”   
Kunimi flashed him a tiny smile, and Iwaizumi could see the gratitude in his eyes. Kunimi wasn’t in any state to defend himself, and Iwaizumi was free that night anyways. The kid was stupidly stubborn sometimes, and even though he seemed apathetic, he cared about his job and his studies. 

“By the way, what’s with the hair?”   
Iwaizumi groaned. 

  
  


****

 

The club was loud, music already deafening and lights flashing in Iwaizumi’s eyes as he grunted at the bouncer on his way in. Kunimi had told him he had let the dude know that Iwaizumi was coming for him. More specifically, he had said, “I told the guy to watch for a short, bulky man who looks like he has attitude problems and a height complex.” 

Iwaizumi was slightly offended that the bouncer had apparently recognized him from that very flattering description. He made his way to the side, where he knew the bar was. He spotted Kunimi, who, true to his word, was wearing sunglasses and giant earmuffs. He tried very, very hard not to laugh. He weaved through a crowd of uncomfortable looking women. While male strip clubs tended to have some creepy, predator-vibe old guys, they also had their fair share of bridesmaids who decided to throw their bachelor party here. They tended to get uncomfortable and leave pretty quickly, though. Watching a naked man drip sweat and swing their penis around in a banana hammock tended to turn people off rather than get them going. Iwaizumi knew Kunimi was not bad at pole dancing, but most of the men chose not to go down that route. 

Kunimi spotted him as he drew closer, waving slightly at him. He seemed to have recovered a little bit, although his shoulders were still hunched and he seemed to wince at large movements. Iwaizumi sat down in one of the stools at the bar, doing a quick scan of the other patrons. None of them seemed too dodgy, and none of them were over sixty, which was always  a plus. Kunimi was waved down and seemed to be listening to the order of two less-than-sober girls, so Iwaizumi waited as Kunimi nodded slightly before making his way over. 

“You came,” Kunimi said. Iwaizumi could see the hints of a smile and nodded.

“Yeah. What time does your shift end again?” Iwaizumi glanced at the clock. As much as he liked keeping Kunimi safe from weird sexual predators, he wasn’t the most stoked for spending another few hours in such a crowded, sweaty enclosed area.

“Two hours.” Kunimi sighed. He pushed a beer towards Iwaizumi, who took it gratefully. “I have to go take care of business now.” He waved a hand towards the general direction of the drunk girls. Their numbers had somehow quadrupled, and the eight of them were very frantically trying to get Kunimi’s attention. “Thanks for coming.”   
“Anytime.” Iwaizumi nodded, waving him off. He watched absent-mindedly as all the girls clamored to have their drink orders heard. He paid a little more attention when he saw one of the girls rest her hand on Kunimi’s shoulder, reaching across the table, and whisper into his ears. Briefly, he imagined her eyes flicking towards him, but he wasn’t sure. Kunimi remained expressionless as always, giving her what seemed to be a curt reply before drawing back and beginning to prepare the drinks. 

With lack of anything better to do, Iwaizumi pulled out his flip phone and checked for any new texts. He had several from his dad, who had asked him how the store was doing and whether Iwaizumi remembered to fix the AC. He typed out a quick reply- “Good. AC got fixed today. Eating well.” He sent it, wincing as he remembered international texts were costly. Whatever. He couldn’t be bothered to get out of those newfangled, complicated smartphones. He and his flip phone were old friends, even if he got constantly teased for it. He was about to start texting his mom when he heard someone clear their throat behind him.    
“Yes?” Iwaizumi turned around, putting his phone back into his pocket, and was greeted with the sight of a slightly drunk girl with a very drunk friend. The less drunk one was chewing her lip anxiously, a faint blush visible on her cheeks. Iwaizumi recognized her as the one who had glanced his way earlier. The drunk one nudged her, the movement very obvious.

“Hi, I’m Aika, and this is Yui,” the drunk one slurred, speech severely impeded by alcohol. 

“Uh, hi,” he said. When neither of them replied, he realized they were waiting for him to introduce himself. “Iwaizumi.”   
“U-Um, Iwaizumi-kun, I was wondering if I could have y-your number, or something…” Yui said shyly. Iwaizumi was wondering to himself how to politely let her know he had no interest of seeing anyone when an arm was slung around her shoulders.    
“Hey, pretty, don’t bother with this poof, come play with me,” a man somehow even drunker than Aika leaned heavily against Yui. Iwaizumi could smell the alcohol on his breath even from a distance. He also wasn’t sure why he was using offensive terminology for gay people  _ at a male strip club _ . Iwaizumi normally didn’t give a shit what people thought, but Yui looked so uncomfortable that he felt obligated to do something.

“Hey, leave her alone.” Iwaizumi grunted, stepping off of his stool. He cast a quick glance behind at Kunimi, who still seemed busy and relatively safe. 

“Yeah? You gonna make me?” The man grinned, retracting his arm from around Yui. Yui seemed to sag in relief, before grabbing Aika’s arm and scrambling away to safety. Everything about him was sleazy- greasy, slick-backed hair from too much hair gel, a few straggling chin hairs indicative of an attempt at growing a beard that wasn’t succeeding, and a large beer belly. Even though he had a few inches on Iwaizumi, he wasn’t intimidating in the slightest. The beer seemed to have inflated his confidence in his own fighting skills, as he leaned over and murmured, “Let’s take this outside, shall we?” Iwaizumi had no qualms about fighting assholes, and shrug affirmatively in response. He followed the guy out the back door into a back alleyway, and thought that at the very least he would get away from the music for a little while. As soon as the door closed behind him, the guy threw a fumbling punch at him, which missed by a large margin. Iwaizumi almost felt bad as he sidestepped another punch, ducked, and then swung his arm straight into the guy’s gut. Almost. The guy flew backwards, all the breath knocked out of him, and landed flat on his ass, gasping for breath.

“Well, I have to go back. My friend needs my supervision.” He said, turning back around and heading back into the cacophony. Right before the door closed behind him, he could hear the guy cursing him out, demanding that Iwaizumi remembered him as he was going to get revenge someday. Iwaizumi sighed. Two crazy weirdos consecutively. And they kept wanting Iwaizumi to remember them. As if he had the memory space to remember every crazy person he encountered. At least 5GB of memory space was dedicated to remembering cute cat videos he had seen on the Internet, and he was not willing to give up any data for creeps. 

He returned back to the bar, glad to see Kunimi was still in one piece. The area seemed to have cleared out a lot more, and Kunimi was leaning against the table, waiting for Iwaizumi to reappear.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi greeted, sitting back down. “The dude missed three times before I nailed him in the gut.”   
“Ouch.” Kunimi said, looking slightly more cheerful. “Bastard deserved it. He’s been trying to pay me to sleep with him for nearly a month.”   
Iwaizumi grunted. “How much did he offer?”   
“Almost a thousand dollars.” Kunimi sighed. 

“Shit, he’s loaded.” Iwaizumi hoped that he didn’t accidentally piss off some CEO. Although he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

“Yeah. The girl that asked for your number before, she asked me if you were gay, then asked me if you were single.” 

“She has her priorities straight. Also, do I give off a gay vibe?” Iwaizumi recalled the guy asking him (well,  more like demanding him) on a date yesterday. What was his name again? Something -kawa. Iwaizumi decided to call him Trashykawa.    
Kunimi handed him another beer. 

“Don’t stereotype. No such thing as a gay vibe.” He chided. Iwaizumi took the beer gratefully.

 

“....It might be the hair.”

 

God dammit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always you can find me at thighchi.tumblr.com :)  
> please leave a comment/kudos if you have any feedback/advice or if you simply enjoyed!!!!!!!!! comments are my favorite thing in the world  
> thank you for reading :) <3

**Author's Note:**

> Far from done but will try to keep my updating very consistent :)  
> find me on tumblr at thighchi.tumblr.com !


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